Dreamscape: Saving Alex (34 page)

Berkos walked down from his throne and stood
across from Arrow. Beneath Arrow’s dark matted hair, sweat dripped down his
forehead. He wiped it with his shoulder, the muscles in his arms rippling. I
had no idea who would win.

Berkos stabbed first, a quick jab, easily blocked.
A smile grew on his face as he thrust forward again. His movements seemed
playful, although his smile dripped with animosity. Their swords crashed
against each other as their moves increased in speed and ferocity.

Sweat dripped down Arrow’s face, and his jaw tightened
with concentration. His arms twisted as he met and deflected every thrust of
the king’s.

Berkos’ grin faded, and his face glistened with
exertion. “I have you now,” he said, knocking Arrow down over the body of a
fallen guard. Arrow rolled out of the way just as Berkos’ sword cracked the
plated armor at his side. Arrow jumped up and deflected the next swing,
maneuvering around the other guards. Berkos kicked the fallen men and slid
through the puddles of blood around them. His smile turned sinister.

“You may have learned a trick or two, but you’re
still no match for me.”

“You’re right, I’m not your match. I’m better.”
Arrow flipped through the air and kicked out with his feet, connecting with
Berkos’ chest. The king flew back, landing against the far wall.

Berkos shook his head and stood, his hand on his
ribcage. “That’s the last hit you’ll get.”

“So you say,” Arrow said, running forward, his
blade whistling through the air as he sliced at Berkos’ head.

Berkos redirected the hit and smacked him with the
side of his blade. The shallow cut streaked blood across Arrow’s face. He
covered his face, paling when he saw the blood drip off his hand.

I slid around the room, pressing against the wall
until I stood behind the throne. This had to end before Berkos maimed Arrow.
Once in position, I waved my arms.

Arrow saw me and pressed forward, forcing Berkos
back, thrust after thrust. I tasted the metallic twinge of blood in the air and
flinched with every crash of the swords. He came at me quickly. I barely had
time to strategize before I saw the swing of the keys and heard the whirling of
the swords.

I leaned forward from behind his throne, reaching
forward tentatively to avoid the moving blades. Berkos grabbed my wrist and
twisted it until I spun in front of him.

His warm breath on the back of my neck sent
shivers down my spine. He twisted my wrist until the pain forced me to release
the dagger. With his other hand, he grabbed it and held it against my throat.
The jewels sparkled along the hilt. I trembled despite my best efforts.

“Arrow,” I said, my voice quivering.

He glanced between me and the king and raised the
tip of his sword. “Let her go. Your fight’s with me and the rebellion, not her.
You said so yourself.”

“Ah, yes, I did. But I also gave her the chance to
leave,” Berkos said, his voice rising in a manic cackle.

Tears trailed down my face, blending with the
blood dripping from the tip of the blade as it slid down my neck and under my
shirt.

Berkos wiped it with his finger and licked it. “I
generally don’t believe in second chances. But maybe an arrangement can be
made,” he said, releasing the pressure against my neck. “What are you prepared
to give up for her?”

He looked at me and then back to the king. “Name
your price.”

“Arrow, you can’t,” I pleaded. “Think of the queen
and the people depending on you. I’m nothing.”

“She makes a passionate plea. But let me ask you,
dear boy. Is life worth living without the one you love?”

“Don’t listen to him. Don’t give up what you have
worked for these past few years for what we’ve shared in only a couple of
weeks.”

“You know what these weeks have meant,” Arrow
said.

I did. That made this choice so much more
difficult. I saw the pain in Arrow’s eyes, the guilt as he weighed my life
against the lives of the others. No matter which way he chose, doubt and regret
would haunt him forever. The sword shook in his hand.

I couldn’t save him or the rebellion and win the
game. I had to choose between what I wanted and the greater good. Looking
between the two men, weighing the options in my mind, I realized my choice was
clear. And it didn’t have anything to do with being a hero. It had to do with
being me.

I looked over at Arrow. “Please don’t. I’m not
worth it. The rebellion may want me, but they don’t need me. They need you.”

“They may not need you, but I do. Let her go!” he
yelled.

The reverberation of his sword hitting the ground
shook me to the core. I closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Arrow.” I dropped the keys to the
ground. A stray tear slid down my face, blurring his image as I pressed my
right leg against Berkos’ leg.

“Game over,” I said, twisting the lever on the
whip up to the highest level.

Berkos jerked his head down, confusion flickering
to fear as he realized what I had done.

“No!” Arrow’s screams blended with my own. Waves
of electricity shook my body. The hum vibrated through me, climaxing in a gray
blur as my vision failed.

My world disappeared into a limbo. Everything hid
behind a veil of light, and loud ringing drowned out all sound for what felt
like hours. I slowly regained my senses as spasms flared down my side. I
couldn’t move.

The outline of the window lit up with the flash of
fireworks. I tried to move again, and my arms buckled. Tears puddled around my
cheek as I stared helplessly at the body in front of me.

King Berkos stared back, the sneer frozen on his
face, his eyes glinting with hatred. Stuck in the same place I was, hanging to
the threads of life, I saw his fingers inch forward. Between us, the whip
buzzed, leaving charred scars across the marble floor.

Pulling the energy from every inch of my body, I
moved my hand forward in a last battle of wills. The handle hummed through me
as I grasped the cold metal and pulled it to my side. Berkos flinched as I
flicked the power lever off, and the hum fell silent.

Before I closed my eyes, I saw Arrow creep up
behind him. Sadness haunted Arrow’s face. Deep circles I hadn’t noticed before
highlighted the red splotches around his eyes. I wished I could see him smile,
if only for a last time. Berkos stole his attention. Bursts of fireworks
glinted off my dagger as Arrow held it high above the king. I closed my eyes.

Berkos’ scream echoed in my soul.

It was done. Arrow had killed the king, and all I
could do was cry. Strong arms wrapped around me. He cradled me to his chest,
rocking back and forth.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he
whispered, kissing my forehead.

“Y-you did it,” I stuttered, slowly forming the
words.

“We did it. I never could have gotten here without
you.” He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes.

I bit my lip, wishing the tears would freeze like
the rest of my body had. “Keys.”

“What?” He looked behind me at the discarded ring
of keys.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here. You
still need to rescue the queen. She’s down below, in the stairway behind this
room. You should be able to find it without a problem.”

“I’m not worried about any of that right now,” he
said, rocking me again. “I’m staying here with you.”

“But…”

“I’ll be here for as long as I can. I’m not ready
to let you go.”

I smiled up at him, wishing the sadness in his
eyes wasn’t a reflection of the grief he saw in me. “I wanted an adventure,” I
breathed. “You gave me an unforgettable one.”

He gave me the smile I had hoped for, the one that
had stolen my heart. I looked away, watching the fireworks fade into the
darkness. The sky separated into a pixelated mosaic of colors.

Soft golden flakes blew in from the window, landing
on my knee. I lowered my eyes, watching the golden dust swirl around me. Energy
hummed through my body.

I looked up at Arrow, his eyes wide in disbelief.
An overwhelming sadness filled me.

“It’s time,” I whispered.

He nodded. His quiet acceptance broke my heart.

“I don’t want to leave you,” I said, tightening my
grip on his vest. My voice disappeared beneath the barrage of whirling flakes.

“You never will. I’ll always be here. You know
where to find me.”

“In the game? I want more than that.” My chin
trembled.

“No, I’m not just in the game anymore. I’m right
here. Always.” He pointed to his heart.

I looked down at our hands, mine now covered in
golden light, his pale. “But I’m not ready to go.”

“We’re never ready. There’s never a good time say
goodbye.”

He leaned forward, kissing me one last time. I
closed my eyes and responded to his lips. His fingers traced the outline of my
jaw, and a soft sigh escaped me. In that moment, everything disappeared except
him and me and the feelings we shared.

Then a rush of electricity ran through me, and I
felt the golden light rise from my legs over my elbows until the sensation of
our kiss disappeared under the control of the rhythmic hum.

A whirlwind of golden flakes separated our hands,
tearing us violently apart. My heart ached and my chest heaved as Arrow
disappeared behind the golden storm.

“No!” I whispered, wishing I had the strength to
scream.

“No!” I jumped up, wiping the fuzz from the corner
of my eyes. Everything blurred under the bright light of the sun. My head
pounded as I recognized the familiar song in the background.

“Arrow?” I asked, rubbing my eyes harder.

“Hmm?” An unexpected but familiar voice grumbled.
Natalie.

“Not yet. I’m not ready to go,” I murmured,
closing my eyes, knowing even as I said it that it wasn’t my choice. There was
no going back after game over.

Natalie mumbled something incoherent, then tapered
off into silence.

I ignored the grumbles and concentrated on the
song in the background, memorizing the endless loop of music, holding on to the
last piece of Lockhorn I could. I knew reality waited when I opened my eyes,
but I wasn’t ready to let go. So I kept them shut.

But no matter how much I wanted to hold on to my
memories of Arrow, I couldn’t ignore the soft blankets at my side or the
lingering fragrance of cinnamon. No matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t
deny the truth. I was home.

The pang of disappointment surprised me.

Home. That word held so many conflicting meanings
for me now.

I wasn’t ready to be back. After months of
fighting to stay here and weeks—in game time, at least—of trying to get back,
this was the last place I wanted to be. It didn’t seem fair. Where was the
happy ending I wanted?

This wasn’t it. That realization stabbed me.

What I’d thought I wanted now seemed minor in
comparison to what I knew I could have. I wanted more. I didn’t want a moment
from my past or an adventure to dream about, I wanted to live it. But that
meant opening my eyes.

Could I do that? Open my eyes and accept whatever
reality awaited me? I didn’t know, but I had to try.

I exhaled deeply and gripped the blanket at my
side, waiting for the haze to clear. Even through the blurriness, I recognized
the familiar shapes of my trophies and the pictures covering the wall.
Everything was the same as when I’d left. Boxes lined the far wall, and, above
them, my old photos stared at me. The fights I had gotten into for those torn
images now seemed pointless.

My surroundings felt strange, memories of a lifetime
ago. Their familiarity didn’t bring the comfort I’d come to expect, just a pit
in my stomach. The mosaic of colors I had prided myself on seemed dull. Artwork
from the past filled the spaces that should have been left for future projects.

I clutched the blanket and lifted it to my mouth
to muffle my scream.

Natalie grumbled on the floor again, tucking her
head deeper into the sleeping bag in protest. The tips of her long hair curled
out, half-hiding the pile of toppled cinnamon popcorn at her side. I watched
breathlessly, waiting to see if she moved, but besides the slow rise and fall
of the bag, she remained still.

I sighed and dangled my feet over the edge of the
bed, careful to avoid waking her. Natalie usually slept in later than me, and
today I was counting on it. I wasn’t ready to jump back into real life yet.

Pins and needles shot through my feet as I dangled
them over the edge of the bed. I rubbed my ankle, doing a double take at the
red lines crisscrossing up my shin. The indentations of the blankets looked
oddly familiar. Dismissing what had happened as a dream seemed absurd. Every
place, event, and person was imprinted on me.

I shook my head and walked to the nearest wall,
cursing when I tripped over the stack of unused boxes lying half-hidden beneath
my dresser. Hopping on one foot, I hobbled over to the wall where the bulletin
board full of familiar faces smiled at me.

The sides of my mouth inched up as I unpinned the
closest picture. An old photo of Natalie and me after the first game she cheered
at. My uneven pigtails looked misplaced beside her perfectly coiled curls.
That’s what we were, two odd pieces that fit together perfectly. I remembered
that game. We’d had a sleepover afterwards, and the next morning we each ate
half a dozen doughnuts. The photo dimmed compared to my memory.

I grabbed the photo next to it and peeked at the
inscription on the back:
Halloween, 7th grade
. That was the year of the
big sleepover at Melissa’s house. There was no way I could forget that or the
midnight swim in our mermaid costumes. I bit my lower lip as a grin grew on my
face.

I looked at the next photo and the ones behind it,
all memories I hadn’t forgotten. In fact, every photo on that board seemed a
pale comparison to the stories I remembered.

After one last look at the photos in my hand, I
dropped them into the half-filled moving box at my side. The photos flipped
over in all directions as they fell, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t need to
see them to remember those moments in my heart.

My fingers itched for action. It was like
traversing the dark forest all over again. After the first step, the rest came
easily. Posters came down, followed by my artwork. Everything found its way
into the box, and then I settled back on the edge of my bed.

I could no longer filter out the endlessly looping
song in the background. Tucking my knees inside my white shirt, I thought about
the game on the screen. I glanced around my room, stopping at the red door that
led to the hallway. Then I glanced down at the pile of stale cinnamon popcorn
around Natalie’s head and settled my gaze on the indentions on my leg.

What had happened to me? Which was more absurd,
believing that the game was real or that I had dreamed it all up? Was it even
possible to dream so vividly that I feared death and fell in love? I traced my
lips. I didn’t know which option I wanted to be true. Both seemed inadequate to
answer the questions racing through my mind or settle the tremors in my heart.

But it was my choice. What did I want to believe?

I screamed into the pillow and hurled it across
the room, nearly hitting the flashing screen. Then I crawled to the edge of the
bed, almost falling off onto Natalie as I picked it back up.

The screen flashed again, and the final scene of
the game repeated itself. I held my breath, watching. The key to the dungeon
opened the cell door. My chest burned as I watched the little pink queen stand
and twirl in victory. Fireworks burst at the top of the screen, and a slow
march of golden letters along the bottom announced the end of the game.

“Arrow,” I murmured. “You did it. You saved the
queen.” Tears stung as they filled my eyes.

“Stop that,” Natalie grumbled behind me.

“What?” I turned, surprised.

She rubbed her eyes, smearing the last of her
mascara down her cheek. Her exasperated look spoke volumes. “No crying this
early in the morning. You’re not leaving until this afternoon.”

“No, you’re right,” I said, wiping my eyes with
the back of my hand. “No more tears.”

She looked around the room at the empty walls and
full boxes and arched her eyebrows. “How long have you been up?”

“Not too long. I couldn’t sleep.” What else could
I tell her? “I had too many things going through my mind.”

“That makes sense. It looks like you packed a
lot.” She stared at me like she wanted to say more.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t quite place it. You just
seem different this morning, that’s all.”

After a moment, I said, “Last night was fun.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “It was. I
haven’t played that game in years. I can’t believe you still remembered all of
it.”

“There’s a lot that I think I missed. Are you
ready to play again?” I asked, tossing her a controller.

“Seriously, this early? What about packing?”

“There’ll be time later. Worst case, I’ll let my
mom finish it. It’s just stuff, right?”

Natalie stared at me and finally shook her head.

“What?”

“Nothing, you’re just different from yesterday.
Happier…”

“I guess I finally realized there were more
important things to do than hold onto the past. Like this,” I said, nodding towards
the screen. I settled back into the groove of blankets and closed my eyes,
letting the rhythm of the song reach my soul. As I punched in the familiar
start code and saw the golden tornado swirl across the screen, I turned to look
at Natalie.

“What do you say we don’t take the shortcut this
time?”

She shrugged and settled in next to me. “Are you
sure we’ll have enough time for that?”

“Yes,” I said, urging the little green hero into
the dark forest. “There’s always time for an adventure.”